


Don't ever let me see you again

by PerlaHope



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerlaHope/pseuds/PerlaHope
Summary: The feast from Foxface's point of view, but with a Cloxface twist
Relationships: Clove/Foxface (Hunger Games)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Don't ever let me see you again

**Author's Note:**

> As we all know Foxface doesn't have a name in the books so I just named her Finley because I thought it was fitting

Funny how I had no idea what the Cornucopia looked like from the inside before I spent an entire night hiding in it. 

Actually, I still have no idea. Even though it’s no longer completely dark outside, it’s still pitch-black inside this giant horn-shaped thing. From where I’m crouching just by the entrance, I can’t even make out where the back wall is. The good thing is, this darkness makes me basically invisible to anyone outside. Hopefully. 

The sun is going to rise any minute, so I stand up very slowly, which still makes all my joints crack painfully. Squatting on the cold ground all night is not the most comfortable thing I’ve ever done, but it will pay off.

I allow myself to peek at the woods everyone else will be hiding in, awaiting their chance. The trees are far away, but I can still see the unnatural sway of the branches on the far left of my field of vision. There’s only one person in this arena who’s stupid and confident enough to make their location that obvious. Cato. Hiding (sort of unsuccessfully) on the side the Twelves are most likely to come from. Just like Clove said he would.

My fingers close around the knife in my waistband. Clove’s knife. I remind myself once again that this could be a trap. Finding me right after the announcement, helping me figure out where I was going to hide, telling me where Cato would be, giving me a weapon, kissing me, telling me I was beautiful while slowly letting her hand wander farther beneath my shirt… this could all be a tactic to get me to trust her, just so she can kill me and later tell everyone how stupid I was to fall for it. I’m sure the audience would love it. 

Just as the first ray of sun breaks through the trees, the ground splits open and a table rises up. I curse myself for letting my concentration break and start frantically scanning the four packs, trying to make out which one is mine. Wouldn’t want to take the wrong one. Once I’m absolutely certain I have my eyes on the correct one, I poise myself on the balls of my feet and get ready to run.

The moment the table isn’t moving anymore, I dart into the open, grab my pack, and then I run. I run faster than I’ve ever run in my entire life, the pack beating against my thigh. I head for the trees to my right. Away from Cato, to where Clove should be. If she told the truth. It strikes me again how stupid I am to trust her. Why am I running straight into the arms of someone who will eventually have to kill me? Idiot.

Once I am far enough into the woods that no one at the Cornucopia should be able to see me anymore, I crouch under a tree to catch my breath and investigate the pack. If I ever make it out of here, I’ll have bad hips for the rest of my life with all this crouching I’ve done in the last weeks. 

I’m fiddling with the strings of my pack when I hear a girl quietly calling my name. I don’t need to look to know who it is. I’m positive only one person in this arena actually knows my name.

“Finley?” she calls out again. She hasn’t seen me yet. I could run. I really should run.

I don’t run. 

“Here,” I answer and stand up.

She stops in her tracks, only a few steps away from me. 

Clove. 

Our eyes lock and for a second we’re both frozen. She slowly slips out of her jacket – the one with the knives – and drops it at her feet. I watch her every move as she takes a step, another.

Then her mouth is on mine and her hands slip under my shirt. This could be a trap. I don’t care. My fingers are in her hair, undoing her ponytail. Her body presses against mine. Her lips find her way down to my neck. My mind flashes to the stolen moments we shared in dark corners of the Training Centre, when it felt like it was the two of us against the world. For a second, everything around us disappears and it’s only us again. No Games, no arena. Just us.  
And then it’s over.

With a ragged breath, she pulls away.

“I have to go,” she gasps. 

I say nothing.

“I have to go,” she repeats. This time, she picks up her jacket. “Don’t ever let me see you again. I don’t want to kill you.”

I nod. 

Clove tears her gaze away from my face and runs back to where she came from without looking back. 

I remain leaning against the tree, too dazed to move. It was not a trap after all. My fingers close around the knife again, and then it hits me. The knife. I had a knife. Clove dropped the jacket with hers before she even came close. I was armed. She was not. She knew I had a knife easily in arm’s reach. I could have killed her. She didn’t care. Or maybe she was sure I wouldn’t.  
Would I, could I have done it? I honestly don’t know anymore. 

Suddenly, the sound of a girl’s screams interrupts my speculation. My first thought is that Clove is in trouble. Then I realize it can’t be her, the voice is too deep for that. It must be the girl from Twelve. Shit. 

I need her alive. She has sponsors, and sponsors mean food. I need food. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I should follow her. I don’t need much, and she never needs to find out. 

The screaming intensifies. Now I think I can hear Clove’s voice mixing in. She’s saying something, but I can’t make out the words. It’s probably better this way. I’m not sure I want to hear what she’s saying to someone while killing them. 

Then Clove starts screaming. This time, I’m sure it’s her. My fingers dig into my palms as I put all my strength into resisting the urge to run to her. A man’s voice yells something, but once again I can’t make out words. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OVER THERE?? Is Twelve dead? Was there a cannon? I’m such an idiot to not have thought about that option. I was so sure she was going to survive. 

I cover my ears to block out the sound of Clove’s pain. Needless to say, it doesn’t help. What is he doing to her? Whatever it is, it sounds horrible. Her screams fill my head until I want to scream. As if that would be of any help.  
Suddenly, she’s quiet. I hold my breath until I hear the cannon. 

She’s dead. Clove is dead.

But Twelve is not. There was only one cannon. If I heard it two seconds ago, I would have heard it a few minutes ago. There was no cannon before Clove’s, now I’m certain of that. Twelve’s alive, and I need to follow her. So, I creep to the edge of the forest in order to get a good look at what’s happening. The boy from Eleven is disappearing behind the Cornucopia with what looks like two packs. Whose did he take? And where is Cato? 

The mystery of Cato’s whereabouts is answered almost immediately by his shouting Clove’s name somewhere to my right. How on earth did he get there from where I saw him? Did I even see him? Or was that someone else? Did I see anyone? I have no clue what’s going on anymore.  
But that doesn’t matter now. I need to find Twelve and then get out of here. Cato’s still far away, but he’s coming.

I start scanning the clearing again and resist the temptation to look at the heap on the ground that is Clove. I can’t think of her right now. Where is Twelve?

A moment later, I realize that she is coming right towards me. I curse myself once again for not paying proper attention. For a second, I worry she’s seen me. Then I notice the blood on her face and the way she’s staggering more than running. She probably couldn’t see me if I were jumping around naked right in front of her nose. As long as she doesn’t die on the way back to wherever she came from, that will only make my job – following her – much easier. 

And so I do. I ban every single thought of a certain girl from District Two from my mind and focus solely on following a certain girl from District Twelve.  
She doesn’t know I’ve been following her almost the whole time. She doesn’t know the reason she never caught anything in her snares was that I got to them first. She doesn’t know she led me to water. And if everything goes right, she need never know those things. 

But I know that as long as she lives, she is going to keep me alive unknowingly. And if she dies and leaves me alone with Cato, there are still the nightlock bushes scattered throughout the arena. Painless suicide, made to look like an accident. Not to sound smug, but sometimes I really feel like quoting that one thing I said in my tribute interview (that everyone forgot immediately after it left my mouth): “I find that if I can apply myself to the situation present, I will be able to figure it out.”

I can apply myself to the situation present. And I will figure it out.

I won’t let them get the better of me.


End file.
